


Berserk

by The_Lady_Crane



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, I'm Sorry, Lemon, M/M, Male Slash, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Manipulation, Out of Character, Rage, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Violent Sex, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane
Summary: Ike accidentally touches Lehran's Medallion, and Soren can think of only one way to calm his chaotic rage.
Relationships: Ike/Senerio | Soren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 105





	Berserk

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't turn out nearly as well as I'd hoped. I've been nurturing this premise for a long time, and it was actually inspired by the Fire Emblem 0 Cipher card showing Ike under the medallion's influence (found here: https://serenesforest.net/wiki/index.php/File:B12-002.png ). 
> 
> Well, I toyed with it, and this is as good as it's going to get for now. I might go back and edit it if inspiration strikes, but for now, I hope you enjoy this little smut of mine.

It began with the glint of tarnished metal in the pale mid-morning sunlight. The watch thumped lightly against the trampled grass, unnoticed by the heron prince as he made his way to the keep. Ike saw, though, and he picked up his pace to a jog so he could bend down to retrieve the item.

“Hey, Prince Reyson, you dropped… this… Guh…”

Reyson spun on his heel and froze when he saw what Ike was holding. “Wha- Oh, no, don’t touch it!”

A bronze watch clenched tightly in strong fingers, the shrill cry of the heron, and all went blank for Ike.

>>><<<

Reyson was willing to admit that it had been his fault. He never should have carried it around with him, let alone enchanted it. “What were you even thinking?” Shinon snorted derisively. In the distance, loud crashes could be heard.

“I merely wanted to keep it safe,” Reyson said, resisting the urge to rub his temples. “I thought that enchanting it to appear as a broken pocket watch would deter thieves.”

“Yeah, great plan, there,” Shinon mumbled.

“Shut it,” Tibarn snapped. “In hindsight, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but Prince Reyson put himself in grave danger to retrieve the medallion. As for why Ike is still on the rampage…”

A distant rumble, as if of thunder, interrupted the hawk king. Titania looked out the window and saw that the storage shed – now temporarily repurposed as a prison – was still standing. “We don’t have much time,” the paladin said severely, turning back to the others. “We can appoint blame later. Right now, we need to find a way to calm Ike down. Any ideas?”

Skrimir let out a growling purr. “The little one should have a plan,” he said proudly. “I will like to see him in action.”

“Do you mean Soren?” Titania frowned. “Where is he, anyway?” They all looked round the room, but the black-clad strategist was nowhere to be seen. “I thought he was right here with us.”

“Maybe he went to the latrines,” Boyd said with a shrug.

Ranulf gave a stuttered laugh. “Can’t blame him. When I saw Ike tearing apart the merchant’s tent, I nearly shit myself!”

Reyson grimaced. “An… unpleasant image, but not unbelievable. He’s insanely strong, and the medallion’s power only seems to amplify that.”

“But… why didn’t it wear off when it was taken from him?” Mist said softly, almost thinking aloud to herself.

“He may need to work off the excess rage,” Reyson said. “If that’s the case, we need to simply keep him in the shed until he’s drained.”

“Easier said than done,” Titania said with another glance at the window. “It may be built of stone, but it’s old. The door is only wood. It may be a matter of minutes before he breaks it down, and then…”

Everyone now looked around, as if assessing the strength of the old fort and imagining the walls crumbling under their general’s might. “Yeah, so, we should probably reinforce the doors before he big-bad-wolfs his way in here,” Ranulf said. Another crash outside seemed to punctuate his declaration. “Even if he gets out of the shed, he’ll be fenced in by the walls.”

“So, what, we all stay hidden in here while he destroys the entire camp?” Shinon said. “Why not just hit him with a sleep staff?”

“That won’t work. His rage is too great,” Reyson said dismissively. “It would take an extremely powerful spell to knock him out.”

“And we have some extremely powerful mages here,” Shinon retorted. “Failing that, I can always hit him with a poisoned arrow. That should take him out for a bit.”

The doors to the great hall were thrown open then. Gatrie screamed, shrill and rather girlishly, and a few people tensed as if for battle. But it was Soren, not Ike, who strode into the room. “I have a plan,” he announced.

“Grrrrow, the little one has a plan!” Skrimir said inconsequentially.

“For Goddess’ sake, what is it?” Titania demanded.

“I’m going to calm him,” Soren said, walking directly through the crowded room as the others stepped aside for him, making a neat path straight for the front doors. “Stay here.”

“You can’t be serious,” Oscar said, taking a step forward. Soren walked around him without hesitation.

Despite Soren’s words, several people followed him out into the dewy mid-morning. “Soren, this is lunacy!” Titania said. “You can’t fight him alone. If he kills you, think of how devastated he would be!”

“He’s not going to kill me,” Soren said, adding in his head, _“I hope.”_

“Do you have a spell to subdue him?” Tibarn asked.

“You could say that.”

They all came to a halt several yards from the shed. The walls were shuddering from the force of Ike’s blows. Inside, they could only imagine the destruction wrought by each swing of Ike’s sword. Soren continued, his boots squishing a little in the muddy yard. “You’d better not let him outta there!” Ranulf called. The sage waved his hand dismissively and stopped in front of the storehouse door.

“I want you all to stay back,” he said. “Return to the keep. Give me perhaps an hour.”

“Are you sure about this?” Titania asked.

“Yes. Leave me.”

“Good luck, little beorc!” Skrimir said, leading the group back into the keep.

If they had any misgivings, Soren wasn’t interested in hearing them. He knew that his plan would work, because he had seen evidence that it would. They had only managed to lure Ike into the storehouse in the first place because of the hunks of dried meat hanging within. Most didn’t realize it, but Soren knew then that the urge to fight wasn’t the only instinct driving their commander.

There were three things that drove survival – fighting for self-preservation, eating for sustenance, and fucking to produce the next generation. Boiled down to the more basic element of seeking to fulfill those needs, it was evident that the medallion enhanced feelings of aggression, hunger, and lust. Nobody in the camp could survive a fight with Ike in this state, and there wasn’t enough food within fifty miles to satisfy him. That left only one option.

Soren unlatched the door and went inside.

It was an absolute mess, and Ike was in the process of reducing everything in sight to splinters. He had made short work of the meat, leaving nothing but twisted metal hooks dangling uselessly from the ceiling. A few half-eaten vegetables – carrots, cabbages, potatoes – were scattered among the splinters of what had once been crates. The bedrolls had been strewn about the floor and torn to shreds. And Ike was standing by the far corner, digging around in a box of medical supplies. He didn’t turn around as Soren closed the door behind himself.

“Ike.”

At the sound of his name, Ike whipped around, his eyes wide and cold. Soren backed against the door, real fear stabbing him like a blade before he could get ahold of himself. “Ike,” he said again. “You need to calm down.”

The general took a step forward, Ragnell partially raised, his expression one of confusion. He seemed to be puzzling over who Soren was, as if he couldn’t quite place him. There was a moment where Soren thought he wouldn’t have to enact the whole plan. Ike cocked his head to the side, frowning at him. Then he growled, sounding terribly like a feral laguz, and raised his sword.

Soren whipped off his robe in one fluid motion.

“Guh…” Ike stumbled back, dropping Ragnell as his eyes grew wide. It was almost comical. Soren smirked, glad to see that he had been right.

“Well, Ike? You can do whateve-!” He didn’t get a chance to finish before Ike was suddenly upon him, slamming him into the door and covering his neck in an aggressive bite that made Soren’s next breath come out as a squeak. All his senses were suddenly overwhelmed. He could hardly feel the cold, hard wood at his naked back.

“Nnh, Ike, wait!” Soren pushed hard against the wall of muscle, but Ike didn’t stop. He sucked at Soren’s neck while thrusting into his pelvis, his dick growing harder with each motion. “H- hold on!” Ike’s hands were roaming the length of Soren’s body, leaving Soren’s hands free. He grabbed onto Ike’s ear and pulled – hard.

“Nngh!” Ike leaned into the tug, his face contorted in rage and pain, and Soren had just enough time to duck out of his grip. As soon as he was free, Ike shook himself like a dog, snarling when he turned to catch sight of Soren lying on the pile of torn bedrolls.

“Don’t give me that look,” Soren huffed, settling into the fabric and opening his arms in welcome. “Now, come and get it.”

Ike took him up on the offer, falling to his knees over Soren and burying his face in the crook of his neck as he resumed thrusting. Somewhere in his fogged brain, Ike seemed to realize that it wasn’t going to happen like this. He reached down and fumbled with his pants, caught between undoing the buttons and biting at every inch of skin he could reach.

“Oh, for the love of…” Soren wiggled his hands between their bodies, until he felt the half-buttoned front of Ike’s trousers. Ike growled against his shoulder, the sound turning into a groan as Soren’s nimble fingers found his straining manhood. The swordsman thrust his hips forward, bucking into Soren’s hands, and Soren guided him to the right place, spreading his legs as far apart as he could.

He had taken as much time as he dared to prepare himself for this. His entrance was slick and yielding, and Ike’s cockhead found purchase easily. Ike braced himself against the floor with one hand, the other gripping Soren’s hair in a tight fist that had Soren wincing a bit at the pressure. “Here…” he sighed, angling his hips. They came together naturally after that, their movements guided by instinct and experience. Soren’s knees locked against Ike’s sides, his hands clawing at broad shoulders as Ike got the idea and began pushing inward.

“Ha- aaaaah…” Soren breathed deeply, pacing himself as Ike stretched him. His own fingers paled in comparison to the general’s girth. There was a slight burning sensation, despite his careful preparations. He clung to Ike, his nails scoring already-scarred flesh, their hips meeting as Ike let out a satisfied moan. His eyes were closed, but they fluttered open when Soren traced his jawline with a finger. The rage was there, as was that cold blankness, but there was a spark of something else – Recognition? Remorse? An odd sound, almost like a whimper, left Ike’s lips as he pulled back and began thrusting at a rough, even pace.

If this was going to vent his rage, it needed to be thorough. “I- Ike…” Soren’s hand came to rest on the side of Ike’s face as they locked gazes. “Ike, please… T- take me. I’m yours now, so do whatever you want…”

Whether Ike understood him or not, Soren could only guess. He bent down and bit into Soren’s neck again, drawing a sharp yelp from the sage. It was painful, and pleasurable, and far too overwhelming. Soren could only hold onto Ike as he was pounded into the fabric beneath them. There was a persistent but incomplete friction on his own erection, but Soren didn’t dare to reach down and take himself in hand – yet. His own pleasure could come later.

Typically, Ike was a considerate lover. He could be rough, certainly, but he was never as brutal as he was in this moment. And Soren loved it as much as he hated it. The smaller man clung to his lover, focusing on Ike’s body rather than the mad look in his eyes. The chaos raging within him had taken over, but it was still the man Soren loved. Soren tilted his head back, and his pale throat soon became a patchwork of red marks. He would be wearing his high-collared shirt for weeks.

“Little one! Are you alive?”

Ike froze mid-thrust, and Soren cursed under his breath. “I told you not to follow me!” he shouted, his voice coming out more desperately than he’d intended.

“Grrow, I was just checking on you,” Skrimir said from behind the door. “Do you need someone to bait him for you? I volunteer Ranulf!”

There was a dark gleam in Ike’s eye now, and he was staring at the door. Soren’s heart leapt into his throat. “Go away!” he cried, holding onto Ike’s shoulders and digging his nails into his skin. Quietly, he muttered, “Ike, focus. Look at me. Look at me!” He tugged Ike’s ear again, and this succeeded in diverting his attention. With a growl, Ike slammed inside him, and Soren had to bite the back of his hand to keep from screaming.

There was a loud snuffling sound outside. “Mmmm. I see! Brilliant plan! I’ll leave you to it, then!” Heavy footsteps faded away, and Soren sighed, going limp against the bedrolls as Ike fucked him. The lion could probably smell what they were doing; no doubt he would tell the others. That was a concern for later, though. Ike needed him now.

Not that it was difficult to push aside his other thoughts. Ike pulled out and thrust in again and again, the motion slamming Soren into the floor and knocking him breathless. Soren had no doubt that had he failed to prepare beforehand, he would be torn and bleeding by now. “H- harder!” he gasped, allowing his body to relax even as the stimulation caused his knees to start trembling.

It wasn’t long before Ike came, hard and loud, his snarling grunts peaking in a shout that echoed in Soren’s ears. The sage held onto the bedrolls as Ike’s cock twitched deep within him, knowing that it wasn’t over even before the moment could pass. He wasn’t surprised that Ike didn’t soften, that the crazed look in his eyes didn’t fade. “A- again,” Soren whimpered, and Ike obliged him, resuming the same pace as before.

This time, Soren was determined to get some action for himself. He reached between them and took his own erection in hand, nearly crying in relief as the pleasure raced through his limbs. It was much better this way, with Ike battering his prostate and his own fingers curled around his length. Apparently, Ike agreed. He slowed a little as Soren’s tight ass pulsed around him, goaded by the quick pumps Soren was giving his own cock. “Ah, Ike…!” Soren mewled, his breath hitching as he spilled over his own hand.

“Nnnh…” Ike was drawn forward by the rhythmic contractions in Soren’s body, and his weight settled over the sage as he rode out his orgasm. To keep himself quiet, Soren captured Ike’s lips with his own, moaning desperately as Ike bit him again. The pleasure was easing away the pain, leaving him trembling all over and wanting.

For a moment, Ike stilled and panted along with Soren, a wrinkle in his brow showing his confusion. “Ike…” Soren murmured, reaching up to cup his face. “Are you… back?”

His eyes were still dark, his pupils unnaturally dilated. But he was losing steam. That was good. Soren pulled away experimentally, and he wasn’t surprised when Ike’s expression hardened and his grip around Soren’s waist tightened. “Right. Well, flip me over, then, and let’s get on with it,” Soren said.

This time, there was no doubt that Ike could understand him. He frowned down at him for a moment, and then pulled back, balancing on his knees and turning Soren around so his pert buttocks were in the air. “You can hear me, then,” Soren said, waving his ass teasingly. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”

As much as Soren wished he were truly in control of the situation, he felt a little thrill as Ike gripped his hips and thrust into him again. The general was horrifically strong. Coupled with the recklessness brought out by the medallion’s chaotic power, he was a wild and unpredictable force. Soren could feel himself hardening again already. He never would have guessed that being used like this would be such a turn-on.

“Oh, Goddess…!” Soren bit into the rough fabric beneath him, squeezing his eyes shut as that unrelenting length invaded him once more. At this angle, he could feel it right up into his belly, resting heavily against his prostate and stretching him farther than ever. It took all of his willpower to just breathe and take it. He was so small in comparison that Ike could easily break him, and the threat of that happening made his head spin with fear and lust and a wild feeling of abandon.

Ike was content to simply feel Soren’s tight heat around him. Rough breaths washed over Soren’s exposed neck before that sharp, wet sensation returned. Soren whimpered as Ike bit him again and again, each deeper than the last, until Soren couldn’t tell up from down. Then, clamping his teeth into Soren’s bruised flesh, Ike began to thrust, slowly but deeply.

“Nah- aaaah! AH! I- Ike!” Soren couldn’t control his voice anymore. He devolved into a babbling mess as Ike held him down and pried him open, his dick reaching deeper than it ever had before. Soren could feel his stomach bulging, he swore he was going to die, it was too wonderful and too painful and so right—

He peaked again, untouched this time, and so quickly that he didn’t even realize what was happening. Screaming into the bedroll, tears and saliva soaking the fabric, Soren could only shudder under Ike’s bulk as the general sped up and pounded him harder. Then Ike was coming again, and Soren could feel warmth leaking out around his stretched hole. Ike gripped his ass, kneading it hard as he moaned, his head tossed back and every muscle in his body flexing. When the bigger man fell on top of him, Soren could only let out a huff of breath, barely aware of anything but a peculiar buzzing in his limbs.

When he finally came to, Soren had no idea how long he’d been lying in a daze. Ike was curled up behind him, half on top of him. The sage didn’t realize how difficult it had been to breathe until he wiggled out from under his lover and felt a rush of air enter his lungs. He coughed, panting, catching his breath for a moment before checking on Ike.

A groan answered his gentle prodding, and blue eyes opened to gaze blearily up at him. “Are you alright?” Soren asked.

“Unh… Soren…?” Ike frowned. His eyes were still glazed, but it was progress.

“We should get dressed,” Soren said, attempting to stand, but held back by a firm grip on his wrist. Ike pulled him down and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling into Soren’s neck with a sleepy sigh. “I- Ike, we have to get up. The others will come to check on us.”

“Mmnh… Soren… Mine…”

The sage’s face heated up, and he wrapped his arms around Ike’s shoulders. “You’re not back to normal quite yet,” he said. “I suppose it would be… wise to stay here for a while longer.” Ike snored in response. Soren couldn’t help but smile a little as he stroked his fingers through Ike’s hair. “Fine. You win.” Getting his eyes to close was the hard part, but once Soren had managed to relax, he followed Ike into dream land. Neither of them would stir again for hours.

>>><<<

When they finally emerged from the wreckage of the storage room, the others were relieved to see them. Soren had taken his time dressing them, gently guiding Ike’s movements as Ike fumbled drowsily. The rage had subsided, but it had left Ike with a zombie-like malaise. He could barely lift his head as Soren led him out into the twilit yard.

“They’re alive!” Tormod shouted, and the others came rushing from the fort. Mist and Rhys had Heal staves ready, and Soren gratefully submitted to their ministrations, sinking to the ground next to Ike.

“He’ll need to rest,” Soren said.

“You both do; look at you!” Rhys chided. “Were you fighting him?”

Soren said nothing as Rhys helped him to his feet. Ike was limp against the wall of the storage shed. Tibarn and Ranulf helped him up, supporting him on either side with his arms slung around their shoulders. His head lolled forward as they started towards the fort. Soren took a couple of faltering steps before he was suddenly swept off of the ground and into Skrimir’s arms.

“Put me down,” the sage said in what he hoped was a dangerous voice. Instead, he just sounded tired.

“You needn’t worry; nobody thinks you’re weak,” Skrimir purred happily. “You have shown us your strength.”

“Soren, were you actually fighting him?!” Rolf gawked at him, scuttling along beside Skrimir. Soren’s face heated up; he didn’t miss the way Lethe and Kyza smirked at each other.

“The little one used his body to—” Skrimir’s explanation was cut short as Soren clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t say another word, or I will set your mane on fire,” Soren muttered, and Skrimir chuckled behind his hand. Letting his arm fall again, Soren submitted to being carried. It wasn’t like he could walk on his own, in any case.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I wrote this a while before Fallen Ike was announced for FEH, and needless to say, I am ecstatic! It's funny, though; I have often wondered if I wrote Soren out of character, with the way he just squares himself up and faces Ike like a stone cold boss. Turns out I got him fairly accurately. It's actually Ike who ended up OOC! I always imagined berserker Ike to be kind of mindless, like a wild animal, but his dialogue in FEH is quite coherent. Oh, well. :P


End file.
